the ugliness of being a fool
by scentofgardeniasinthewind
Summary: On the inside, I have my own little, broken, crumbling universe. in that little universe, I have been stretched and torn apart there. Than he came, my prince. AU
1. bluh intro bluh

**Warning, sadstuck at the beginning**

**All characters belong to The Huss, I just /rapper voice/ wrote the story. *like a Huss***

You sat down quietly at the end of the hallway, sliding your back down the wall. You wince as your shirt is pushed up by the walls hard surface and your back is scraped. You can start to feel the blood dispersing to, and probably staining your shirt, but you don't care anymore. The day has been too long, and you are ready to break. You can only wallow in your own pity. You feel your eyes begin to sting as you blink repetitively, yet your eyes remain dry, almost more so than before.

_Why?_

This is all you can think as you start shaking, collapsed at the end of your hallway, too tired and gone to even make it to your room.

_Why won't the world let me cry?_

You start to think about your father. He was always a good man. He would tuck you in when you were little. He trusted you. He drove you to watch con air in theatres just because you told him you wanted to be a hero like Nicholas cage. You smothered the bad memories that came along with never being told how to love. You smiled through your tears as you remembered all the times when you were young, before you learned to control your emotions. He would tell you he loves you _so much_. You could remember his voice as he said that way back then. You could remember how you screamed and pushed him away when he tried to hug you and how you told him you hated him.

_Why was I so stupid?_

_I want my daddy._

It is not stupid to call him daddy. He raised you. He loves you. He tried so hard.

_But I let them get to me._

_I let those people; those immature brats who were too busy picking their fucking noses to give a shit get to me._

_They told me I was ugly and stupid and that they felt sorry for whoever loved me._

_They called me a liar so much that I lied._

_I lied about my piano practice. I said I was wearing headphones. I said I used a program on my computer and already sent in the draft online instead of using regular sheet paper. I lied about my homework._

_It was not my fault._

_They pushed me._

_He broke me. He pushed me off the edge. Couldn't he tell I was too far broken. Too far gone to be able to do this after what I had to face every day in that miserable hell hole called school?!_

_But he was my father_

You felt your eyes finally release their floodgate, the saltwater bursting and splintering from your eyes. It did not feel good.

_Why didn't it feel good? Wasn't crying supposed to help?!_

You finally felt release as if your tears turned to a bed of clouds as your emotions began flickering back from pain, to guilt, to happiness as the feelings of childhood slowly returned.

Remember the stories he told you as a child. You were probably only three years old. And how you loved to take those old dusty VCR tapes from that little wooden cabinet and haphazardly shove them into the machine. You would sit cross-legged on the floor in front of that old box TV and watch countless, helpless and intriguingly beautiful princesses be saved by daring and soulful princes full of heart. You always liked Snow White the best. She was black haired and star eyed like you, yet was carefree and loving to all around her. She would always laugh so hard and love every little thing around her, even the little bluebirds in the trees. And she could make beautiful music. She inspired you to start piano because it was the closest thing you could find to her voice. When you were little, you thought if you did everything like her, no, if you were her your prince would come and rescue you. You were wrong. That's when your dad told you,

"You have to find your own special girl. She will be beautiful and have long flowing hair and love you for who you are, because you are my little prince"

You did not like that.

He was wrong

_He was wrong_

What you never told him, you have kept locked in your heart. Even now.

_Why am I the one to have to go and save a princess? I want my own prince. I want somebody to love me. I want love. He will come, right?_

_Someone will be senseless enough to love me, right?_

"John?"

**So yeah this is my first ff so wish me luck! I am still really new at this, so sorry if it is really bad, and I love criticism /or any reviews for that matter/. **

**Umnn also suggestions are nice. ^.^**

**So yeah**

**Btw sorry for the really boring and first chapter of backstory. Just needed to get it out of the way. Also, dad is not dead for any confusion, john is just troubled. I based this chapter a lot on my past and hopefully won't regret putting so much of myself out there. Can you guess who called his name?**

**If you want me to continue, speak up!**

** ~hannah 3**


	2. ch 1 lk a huss

**O.K I am just gonna post this part bc normally I like longer chapters and this is short as fuck but yea life got in the way sorry it took so long to update and sorry this chapter is a load of bluh but yeah**

**Don't kill me for being slow**

**I promise to get back on track!**

**Enjoy!**

You looked up to see a boy through your tears. You recognized him from some of your morning classes. You think he is in your biology and algebra II classes.

_Shit I'm crying._

You start to panic as you hold up one hand to cover your face, slide up your glasses, and push hard on your tear ducts, willing the tears to go away. To stop.

_Great, now he probably thinks I am some sort of freak for crying._

You don't even begin to contemplate about what he reasons about you being at the old metal works factory alone, sniveling in the corner. It wasn't really your fault. You ran out of your house after your dad tried to get you to recover by giving you that imprudent, repulsive cake. He most likely did not even break to contemplate what's wrong. You quickly put on a smile, spurious of course, the motion hurting as you overextended your dry, now split lips, your tears burning the freshly open gashes and making your teeth grind.

_He's probably some art kid who's only come out here to take a few photos, by the looks of it. Long, blond hair pushed to the side, probably tall, though everything looked tall from this angle. He's got a red shirt that really suits him. I can't really see what colour eyes he has, it's too dark. He's kind of cute though…_

_Wait, did I just say cute?_

**Luv you guys! Pls review!**

**-hannah**


End file.
